Summer of Sweet Nothings

Into Oblivion

A/N: Hi,  everyone! I'm back, and with my own original work, at that! The next chapter of my fan-fiction will hopefully be out soon. Anyway, enjoy this, as it is a small part of a much larger novel. Thank you guys for reading!

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Birdie is by my side when we spot Anastasia for the first time.

Anastasia. Her jeans sag. Her boxers poke out. Her hair is in braids. She is beautiful. But she irks me.

"Birdie," I begin.

"I know," Birdie says. "I wasn't expecting her to show up here either. Especially not with those three. What were their names? Benjamin, Eric, and Max?"

I nod.

They wave at us--those three boys and her. I hide my head. I don't like my look.

"Shit!" Asya shouts. "What's up, Penny? It's been a bit. How are you? I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was coming. I wanted to surprise you."

She is walking toward me, throwing too many questions at me at once. It makes my stomach ache.

"I'm okay," I say. "It's okay."

"Well, I know you weren't expecting me." She plays with her black beanie. "I was supposed to visit family, but the stomach bug went around in the hosts' home, so I obviously couldn't go."

I try to make it look like I feel somewhat sympathetic. But it is hard, with my mind racing the way that it is. I am barely listening, fanning the curls of my hair out of my eyes. I manage to catch a lot of what she's saying, though, as with Anastasia, it's hard not to. Her voice is deep; it stands out like a sore thumb.

Anastasia turns to Birdie. "Is this the girl you told me about? Your friend?"

"Yep!" Birdie raises her hand. "Name's Bridget, but you can call me Birdie, or Bee for short."

Anastasia stuffs her fists in her pockets. "Cool." She points to the boys behind her. They are all different heights. It's kind of a strange sight to behold. This is not my first time seeing them, but it's definitely Birdie's. "The tall one is Benjamin, the slightly shorter one is Eric, and the ginger is Max."

The three grin and say their greetings. Anastasia gets in line for tickets, the rest of her gang following, and then they go and grab some caramel corn and cotton candy at a nearby food stand. Birdie and I stray a bit farther behind.

Anastasia's cotton candy looks good. She got the blue kind. I like the blue kind. It reminds me of vanilla-frosted cupcakes and warm sugar.

"Want some?" she says, and she pulls a strand off of her stick, and I look at it once, twice, before taking it.

It tastes like being a kid again--melting on the tip of my tongue.

Birdie and I are chasing each other, skimming by hordes of people, sauce on the sides of our mouths. That was the Fourth of July ten years ago.

A small smile plays at my lips.

"Like it?" Anastasia asks.

"Yes," I say, and she is handsome, just standing there the way that she is, and in the background people are screaming, zooming down roller-coasters, and we are just standing still, in the warmth of this summer night. Her face is illuminated by the lights of nearby rides.

Anastasia has always been so pretty. Even at the hospital, in those same clothes she wore everyday--even in group, during snack. Even when she rips too many Novos, smokes too much weed. Even with her multitude of imperfections and failed past relationships, many of which I probably don't know about. She still glows wherever she walks.